


much like the sun

by kagako



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Developing Relationship, First Kisses, Fluff, M/M, very fluffy...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-05 23:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1836517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagako/pseuds/kagako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s gentle, their first kiss. Soft and sweet, delicate, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	much like the sun

**Author's Note:**

> bbb this is my first time writing for hxh so my first time for killugons, too.  
> please be gentle with me!  
> (also, lets be real here, we all needed this)

It’s gentle, their first kiss.

It reminds Gon of melted chocolate, of the fluffy looking clouds he’d always used to watch, all day, back at the island. It reminds him of warm sheets, of the warmth of the sun against his skin and the heat of fire; it reminds him of the time he accidently electrocuted himself in the kitchen of his home—and the feeling of Killua’s lips on his own somehow produces the same affect inside his veins.

It is soft and sweet, dry with no heat (unlike fire) or spit; though there’s a spark, much like electricity.

It reminds Killua of a brand new punching bag—soft when it hits, like a pillow, he supposes. It reminds him of the countless bruises he’s had on his skin: warm, colorful, and there’s something inside his chest that blooms—though, pain and this feeling (love? affection? _wait,_ Killua _thinks, those are basically the same damn thing—_ ) right now are two entirely different things.

Everything about it is delicate, and they treat each other like the most priceless things in the world—to their touches, the way their fingertips graze and the warmth they emit, much like a heated blanket, Gon thinks, and he starts to consider that Killua is much like a heated blanket, to him. Gon can feel Killua’s warmth, radiant and (he knows if he says, even _whispers_ it aloud Killua would try to smother his face into the bed) much like the sun. It seems to envelop him, to seep into his pours and make him feel alive, _so alive,_ Gon thinks, _that I can’t seem to breathe right, is this what it’s like, oh man oh man—_

Suddenly the fire in Gon’s veins is gone, but the encasement of his sun still wrapped close. Gon can feel Killua’s hands on his hips, can feel soft locks of hair at his jaw, creeping at his cheek—and it tickles. He flexes his fingers, tickles at Killua’s sides himself until Gon can feel the other boy smile against his neck, and Gon laughs too, burying his face in the softness of Killua’s hair.

Killua kisses at Gon’s neck, lips travelling upward until Gon feels soft lips at his jaw, heat from ( _his sun, his light, the spark in his veins—)_ the other boy’s cheek on his own. His hands curl at Killua’s ribcage as Killua’s own snake up to cup Gon’s face, fingertips brushing softly at the boy’s scalp as they settle against the back of his neck. Gon huffs out a laugh, his smile wide and senses seemingly hyperactive with Killua this close. “Killua, wha—?”

“Be quiet, Gon,” Killua hisses, brows narrowed and mouth set in a frown.

“But, Killua, I—“

_“Gon.”_

He pouts, another huff of breath coming from his nose as he mutters a _fine, okay, Killua_. It seems to help the other boy relax, his thumbs skimming the soft, pink tinted and slightly wet skin of Gon’s lips. Killua goes still when he not so much as _sees_ but also _feels_ Gon’s tongue when it moistens his lips, the side of it grazing along his forefinger. He flickers his gaze to Gon, the flush as well as the heat overriding his face seeming to increase when he sees that Gon’s smiling at him, hears the small feats of laughter come from the others throat.

“G-Gon—“ he mutters, eyes skimming along Gon’s face; to the small scar at his hairline, the dust-like freckles along the bridge of Gon’s nose and his cheekbones, to the glint in his eyes, the smile that so easily makes Killua’s chest ache, a warmth spreading within that confuses him to the core, but he knows he wouldn’t dare trade it for the world.

“Killua,” Gon says, and it’s soft, sweet, much like their first kiss that was just moments before. Killua hears the other repeat his name, low and sing-song, feels Gon’s fingertips run up his cheeks and gently pat at the dark circles under his eyes—and he feels Gon’s fingers travel to his hair, feels the heavy and warm assurance of Gon’s forehead against his own.

He hears it again, his name from Gon’s voice—and he returns it, spilling Gon’s name from his lips and they keep at it, over and over, small laughs and huffs of breath coming from between them as they peck at each other’s lips, fingertips grazing the planes of one another’s faces.

It dies down, simmers to a soft hand clasped with a rough, but somehow equally soft one. Lips press against skin and sometimes another pair of lips, and Gon can feel the fire in his veins, can feel his sun encase him once again. He opens his mouth to speak, halting suddenly when Killua begins before him with a soft hum.

“You’re…” he begins, and Gon can see his brows furrow together as he thinks of a way to voice his thoughts. “Gon, you’re… the warmest thing ever. The sun, maybe. Not fire… burns too much, and it’s harsh, so... Probably the sun, yeah.” He pauses; lips twisting in thought before he rubs the palm of his free hand against his forehead, making a frustrated noise. “No, no, the sun is harsh, too, isn’t it? But it’s really warm, and you’re really warm, Gon, and—“

Gon’s laugh cuts him off, and Killua casts his eyes sideways, narrowing them slightly. “D-Don’t you dare _laugh_ at me, Gon, that’s not—“

“Killua,” Gon says, tender and filled with something Killua never thought be directed at him. He laughs, leans over enough so that his face is buried in Killua’s neck, his cheek rubbing against Killua’s own. “It’s funny, really! I was thinking that you’re the sun, too; definitely the sun, to me, at least!”

 _My sun. And I guess it wouldn’t hurt to be_ your _sun, too, Killua._


End file.
